My Fallen Archangel

"Damn it, who's the fool who forgot to shovel the frigging store entrance?" I said to myself as I got up. You see, I slipped on a freshly fallen patch of snow as I walked into the Walmart located at the heart of Nepean, Ontario. That's what I get for wearing my steel-toe boots on the day of a major snow storm. Winter is here, and like a lot of people in Canada's capital region, its ferocity caught me by surprise. So much for the whole global warming thing, eh?

"Are you alright, Gabe?" comes a voice, and I turn around to see my pal Joel Gutierrez, a young Latino guy pushing a heavy cart full of stuff. Joel has been employed at the department store almost as long as I have, and over the years, we've grown to develop a mutual respect. The dude is one of a few mortals I can actually stand, you see...

"I'm cool, Joel," I reply, and as Joel extends his fist, I hesitate, then bump it. I smile at my buddy, then walk into the men's room to get cleaned up. Fortunately, I didn't tear anything. I'm the loss prevention officer for the store. Meaning that I'm that guy in plain clothes who watches customers from the camera room, then steps out to make an arrest once I've seen someone actually steal something.

I stand before the mirror, and look at my reflection. A six-foot-three, broad-shouldered man with dark brown skin and thick, curly dark hair looks at me. I look pretty decent in a black leather jacket over a blue silk shirt, black silk pants and black boots. I don't look a day over thirty. I've been told that I look a bit like Hollywood actor Peter Mensah, and usually take it as a compliment, since I love his movies.

That's the body I will inhabit until the end of time, or, if ever, I get killed by one of my fellow Angels. Does that surprise you? Angels can die, folks. Both the ones in the Kingdom of Heaven and the Fallen Ones like myself. Certain heavenly weapons can end our lives. I am earthbound and my powers are severely limited, but I'm still Immortal. At least that's what I tell myself. Ah, how I miss the old days...

"I'm the Archangel Gabriel, and I have a message for you from the Maker of All Things," I said to the beautiful young Hebrew maiden, and she looked at me without fear as I passed along the message. Outside this simple wooden house, a fierce storm raged which had nothing to do with the whims of mother nature. When Angels of heaven come down to earth, natural disturbances often precede our arrival...

After I told her that she was to conceive the most holy prophet of the Lord, a man endowed with divine powers destined to change the world, she fell to her face in prostration. I hate it when mortals do that, because while my Angelic brothers and sisters are powerful and blessed with great knowledge, only God Himself is worthy of worship. Anyone who says different is a liar...

"Thy will be done, o messenger from heaven," the pious young woman said, and I looked at the bronze-skinned, raven-haired and brown-eyed Hebrew maiden, and nodded respectfully. My message having been delivered, I returned to the Kingdom of Heaven. Once upon a time, I was content to be a leader of the heavenly host and a faithful servant of the Creator. He who is called Yahweh by the Hebrew, God by the Christian and Allah by the Muslim.

It's been well over two thousand years, but one never forgets one's last mission. Ask any old soldier. That's what I was, you know. A soldier of heaven. I miss being in the presence of the Lord, but I understand why He no longer has anything to do with me. You see, I am one of the Fallen. One of tens of thousands of Angels, out of the millions of us originally created by the Lord, who turned against Him.

I stood beside the ArchAngel Michael and our brothers Raphael and Uriel when they battled against Lucifer and his horde. I aided our sister Ariel when she fought against the war-like and robust Angel Jophiel, one of the Devil's principal servants and his most faithful warrior. I watched Lucifer fall, and I was present when Michael sealed him and his fellow fallen Angels in the Pit.

Want to know what the most baffling thing of all is? In spite of all that I've done, all that's happened to me, I still love the Creator. I just don't know what He sees in humans. Even now, after living on the planet earth for untold centuries, I can barely tolerate the species. The things they do to one another irk me. They're still fighting over questions of race, religion, sexuality and nationality. Don't they know that they're all creations of the Lord? I would have thought this was common knowledge at this point.

I look at the cameras, and watch as an attractive, blonde-haired and blue-eyed woman with alabaster skin comes into the store. Clad in a stylish coat that I recognized as part of Talbot's winter collection, she walks around the store for a bit, then heads for the makeup aisle. Interesting choice, I thought as I continued monitoring her from the camera room.

I smile as the pretty lady talks to the gay male cashier, a young Syrian guy named Ibrahim something or other, and she continues browsing as he's called to the customer service office to pick up his overstock. That's when she grabs a ton of makeup and puts it in her coat pocket. With a confident smile on her face, the attractive and stylishly attired thief heads for the exit...

"First catch of the day," I said to myself as I exit the camera room, and briskly walk to the entrance. The store's security guard, an old Somali guy named Ahmed, is checking receipts. The blonde lady changes tactics and heads to the ladies washroom. I wait in the general area for a few minutes. I know exactly what she's doing in there. Taking the tags off the makeup so it doesn't ring when she's exiting with it...

Blondie exits the ladies room, looking like a million bucks, and then she casually walks to the exit. I casually follow her from a distance, tossing a couple of fruits into a blue basket and walking with them, looking like any ordinary customer. The lady exits with the makeup while the security guard is busy checking the receipt of a tall, large old white guy who's trying to exit with a TV and doesn't feel like being checked. Time for me to pounce...

"Lady, you stole makeup, you're coming with me," I said firmly as I grabbed Blondie by the arm, and she looks at me, shocked. Before she can reply, the old white guy whom the security guard had been dealing with reaches the exit doors, and stares at me. I know how it looks. Tall black guy grabbing blonde-haired white lady by the arm. In Canada. Not a good look.

"Get your filthy hands off of her," Mr. Old White Guy says as he approaches me, red-faced and filled with righteous anger. Without letting go of Blondie, I glare at him. In this world, I've noticed that mortals, for all of their pretense at racial equality and diversity, still have a racial hierarchy and they're even more racist today than in ancient times. I say this as someone who was actually there.

"Back off, pal, I'm the store's loss prevention officer, and if you interfere with me doing my job, there will be legal consequences," I say as I brandish my Ontario provincial security guard license within two inches of Mr. Old White Guy's face. Cowed, he backs down, and Blondie and I head to the security room. People are watching us but I don't give a damn. I'm doing my job, and I don't care if it hurts anyone's feelings. Got it?

"Sadiya, please accompany us," I say to a tall, attractive young black woman in an ebony Hijab, sporting the Walmart blue vest and black jeans. Nodding, Sadiya Nomiye smiles and she complies. We're friends, you see. In this job, I've learned to watch my back. If you're a male officer arresting a female suspect, you need to have a female employee of the store accompany you so the female suspect can't use the gender card against you. Yes, I know to play it smart.

"My pleasure," Sadiya says, and she grabs a chair and sits in as I look at Blondie, and lay down the law. Blondie looks at Sadiya and I, and smirks. Clearly the lady is neither worried nor impressed. Using my Angelic abilities surreptitiously, I scan her. Mortals are just beginning to understand the realm of psychology, thanks to Freud and the works of the men and women who followed me. Me? I can see into the human soul. I know a sociopath when I see one...

"So, they've got a frigging African patrolling the store now, someone who isn't even a real Canadian is laying down the law, wow, this is fucked up," Blondie says, and I shrug and look at her driver's license, which tells me a whole lot about her. Kirsten Dwyer, born on November 7, 1988. Residing in Kanata, Ontario. Very interesting...

"You can insult us all you want, lady, you stole, we got you on camera, and you're the one going to jail," Sadiya says hotly, and I look at the young Nigerian woman and smile. Sadiya has spirit, that's for damn sure. The curvaceous West African cutie isn't just easy on the eyes, she's actually useful. I like that in a woman. Kirsten looks at Sadiya and I, smirking.

"Oh, I see what's going on, honey, you're here to protect your man from me?" Kirsten says mockingly, and Sadiya looks at her, then at me, and shakes her head, smiling nervously. Now, I'm a male entity, and possess no greater insight into the female mind than your average man, in spite of my eons-spanning experience, but I could tell that Kirsten's words caused Sadiya's pulse to quicken. What's going on here?

"Ma'am, stop the tough woman act, alright? You stole from my store, and the police are on their way," I said to Kirsten, who shrugged, and Sadiya gave her the side eye but said nothing. Mortal women fascinate me with their complexity and their seemingly endless methods of passive-aggressive behavior. There was a lot going on between Kirsten and Sadiya that I didn't understand, that's for damn sure.

"Thanks for your help," I said to Sadiya after the Ottawa police came and arrested Kirsten Dwyer's thieving ass. We stood outside the store, and Sadiya was having a smoke. I'll never understand mortals habit of smoking, since all of them know what it does to their bodies. One of these days, I want to write a fiction book about my thoughts on mortal folly, but that would take forever...

"Anytime, big man, I always got your back," Sadiya replies, and she looks at me and smiles in such a way that I'm sure she's trying to communicate something. I smile at her, and lean against the wall. It's really cold outside, but the cold doesn't bother me. In fact, whether you drop me at the bottom of the ocean, the pit of an active volcano, or the Arctic, I'll be just fine. The Creator made us Angels durable...

"Why are you so good to me, Miss Nigeria?" I asked Sadiya in a friendly, teasing tone. I'm not very good at the whole witty banter thing. A long time ago, shortly after my fall from heaven, I avoided humans, seeking the blazing hot desert and the frozen tundra, since these extremes were hostile to humans and thus were places that only the hardiest of them would brave. A few years ago, I decided to integrate myself among humans, and now, here I am...

"You really don't know?" Sadiya asks, an amused look on her lovely face, and I freeze as she walks up to me, getting up in my personal space. Sadiya stands on her tippy toes, and then she grabs me and kisses me. Just a two-second peck on the lips, nothing like what you usually see in the movies these days, but a kiss nonetheless. I look at Sadiya, stunned, and she smiles at me and shrugged.

"Have a good day, Gabriel," Sadiya says, smiling, and I stand there, amazed by what just happened. I watch the lovely, Hijab-wearing and usually quiet and soft-spoken Nigerian Muslim lady as she walks away. Damn, the way she's moving her hips, and how her derriere looks in her rather tight jeans have me feeling all kinds of ways. I swallow hard, and smile, then go back inside and resume my duties...

The rest of the day goes by pretty fast, and for some reason, I feel like talking to Sadiya about that unexpected kiss. Imagine my surprise when I hear from the duty manager, a middle-aged, openly gay Filipina named Marianna Ragpala, that Sadiya left work early, something about her not feeling well. Dammit, I was totally looking forward to talking to her. The lady has sweet-tasting lips. I find myself wondering how the rest of her tastes...

It's three fifteen, and my shift is over. I turn the loss prevention office over to Phillip Satsuki, a tall, slender young Asian man with a buzz cut. We've been working together for six months. Phil studies police foundations at Algonquin College and dreams of one day working for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I like the dude's ambition and drive. It's so rare to see young people with a good head on their shoulders in the age of social media, easy-access drugs and casual sex...

"Have a good shift, Phil," I say to my colleague, who smiles and checks my bag before I exit our office, as is company policy. I sling my backpack over my shoulder, and make my way toward the front of the store. I expect to see Ahmed the old Somali dude working security at the door, but he's gone, his shift ended fifteen minutes ago, and there's a young Middle-Eastern guy named Farouk standing at his place.

"Salaam, Gabriel, see you later," Farouk says, and we exchange dap, then I exit the store. As soon as I clear the Walmart parking lot, I take a look around. The good thing about winter is that the skies get darker a lot faster. No mortals are looking at me, the coast is clear. I will myself to become invisible, unfurl my wings, and take off into the skies. Man, I've been wanting to do this all day...

I'm an Angel, and the heavens are my natural environment. I close my eyes as I soar, surrendering to the feel of the wind against my face. I rise higher and higher into the sky, until the mortal world falls away. As I fly over Ontario, I smile, for this land is quite beautiful, especially at night. A fox comes out of its burrow and goes on the prowl near Longfields Avenue in Barrhaven. A young couple is getting busy in a minivan parked near Baseline Station. Nature at its best, I thought with a smile. Suddenly, a feeling of unease grips me...

"Hey, old man," comes a voice, and I turn around to see the familiar face of Barachiel, former Angel of the Heavenly Host, now one of the Fallen. Casually held aloft by huge, dark gray wings that remind me of a pigeon's only much larger, Barachiel smirks at me. I roll my eyes, annoyed that my old buddy actually got the drop on me. Barry, as I sometimes call him, and I go way back.

Six feet tall, lean and athletic, with dark bronze skin and thick, curly dark hair, clad in a green silk shirt and blue jeans, he wouldn't have looked out of place on the streets of Beirut, Lebanon. Like me, the former Angel known as Barachiel was forged in the Vaults of Heaven, and the resemblance between him and the Levantine people is pure coincidental...

"Hey, Barry, what's new?" I call out, and as Barachiel comes near, I realize that he's not alone. Suddenly I realize the source of my unease, as two more Fallen Angels will themselves visible. The tall, slender, blonde-haired and blue-eyed female with the silver wings and piercing blue eyes is Kushiel, formerly the Angel of Punishment, and the tall, burly, massively muscular, bald-headed Asian guy with the bronze eyes and dark brown wings is Raziel.

"Oh, just out for a flight, Gabriel," Kushiel replies snidely, positioning herself between Barachiel and I. We've never gotten along, Kushiel and I. You see, while in Heaven, Barachiel and I were friends and we remained so after the Fall. Barachiel fell with Lucifer, and later abandoned Lucifer's ranks. Kushiel got expelled from Heaven because she enjoyed herself a bit too much while slaughtering the firstborn of Egypt under the orders of Azrael, the Angel of Death. The bitch is crazy...

"You haven't been keeping in touch, Gabriel, we were worried about you," Raziel chimed in, and he and Kushiel exchanged a smile. These two are lovers, which doesn't surprise me since they both have a passion for secrecy and cruelty, but I was a bit surprised to see them with Barachiel. You see, Barachiel is something of a pacifist, like me, while Raziel and Kushiel enjoy destruction for its own sake. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but they might have been the evil spirits who whispered into former U.S. President George W. Bush's ear and told him the War in Iraq was a good idea...

"What in hell have you been up to?" I asked Kushiel, and she smiled, and then pulled a red hat seemingly out of nowhere. Upon seeing the Trump hat, I bristled, for I absolutely hate that bozo. Long ago, I swore to myself that I wouldn't interfere in mortal affairs. Earth belongs to Man, as decreed by God Himself, and Heaven belongs to God and His Faithful, while Hell belongs to Lucifer and his followers. Fallen Angels like myself exist in a gray area, and keeping a low profile is a good idea...

"Oh, I just wanted to encourage the mortals toward the path to extinction, and with a loose cannon like Trump at the controls, the planet will inch ever closer to Armageddon," Kushiel said smugly, and then she kissed Raziel on the lips. I looked at the two of them, suddenly wishing that I had the power to smite them. As an Archangel, I could have destroyed them but in my fallen state, I no longer can.

"Advising Trump helped him win, and Lucifer was pleased with his election," Raziel said, and I shook my head. While I find humans annoying, and dumb, and cruel, my strong dislike of them pales in comparison to how the Devil feels about them. Ever since Lucifer fell from grace, destroying the humans has been his obsession. Now, the bindings that Michael placed on the Pit prevent him from coming to earth, but his agents come and go as they please, and eagerly do his bidding...

"Barachiel, why do you keep company with these two?" I asked, and Barry looked at me, and shrugged. I stared at my friend, and wondered what was going through that head of his. I fell from heaven because I dared to question the Lord's endless forgiving of mortals and their sins while He refused to show mercy to my fallen brothers and sisters. Barachiel left Lucifer's ranks because he realized the Angel of Light was murderously insane. Why is he hanging out with Kushiel and Raziel?

"Gabriel, I've been stuck here for a long time, and I feel lonely, and let's face it, humans have no love for us, who cares if they destroy themselves?" Barachiel said casually, his eyes boring into mine. I looked at him and shook my head, and it dawned on me that our time on earth had affected us differently. I don't like humanity, but I have a few mortal friends whom I value. I don't want wanton destruction and mayhem. I just want a certain place, and a certain peace, that's all.

"You're following a path I can't join you on, Barry, I'm sorry," I replied, and I flapped my wings and turned to leave...only to find Kushiel and Raziel drawing closer to me. I had time to register shock as they summoned ethereal weapons, swords made out of a metal not found on earth, and came at me. I summoned a weapon of my own, and struck out at Kushiel...

"You're going down, old man," Kushiel cried out, and she easily dodged my blade, and struck at me. I recoiled, barely able to stop her from clipping my wing. Folks, in Heaven I was an Archangel, and while I wielded great power, I wasn't a fighter. The art of battle was more my brother Michael's forte. Me? I excelled at other things. I could be quite tricky...

"Not if I can help it," I replied, and I summoned the elements, and struck out at Kushiel, this time with the lightning as my ally. Kushiel shrieked as electricity struck her, and the fallen angel fell from the sky like a rock. I watched as she crashed in the forests of eastern Ontario. Say goodnight bitch, I thought, and then turned my focus on Raziel, who came at me angrily, sword at the ready...